The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1887-01-29
had not consoled herself. And then
came the Dick Irton episode.

1t was bright morning in June when
Captain Irton arrived at the Charing
Cross station, thoroughly tagged and
wearied, with his long journey. He had
come as fast as P. and O. steamers and
mail trains can bring man from Bonn
bay to the Strand. But in couple of
hours he hoped to have rid himself of
all signs of travel, to have got inside a
decent coat, and to be in the shady
drawing room in Park street, with Dor
othy Lennox's S soft arms round his neck.
He felt very sleepy and somewhat ag-
grieved, for he had nursed the unreason-
ing hope of seeing her at the station,
although she could not possibly know
when he would arrive. He had started
by the very next mail from Bombay, so
that writing would have been useless.
He felt, indeed, that he had answered
her telegram in avery practical fashion.
How overjoyed she would be to have
him back! How he hoped it would not
be too much for her-seeing him sud-
denly again like this. So, throwing
himself on the bed in his room at the
Grand Hotel he fell asleep.
When Dick awoke it was three in the
afternoon. Tubing and unpacking
took an hour, and then he had to 60
out and buy a fall hat. After this he
directed the cabman to the house in
Park street.
The shady Mayfair street looked bright
and pleasant as his hanson ratified along,
the houses smartened up for the season
with new blinds, and window boxes full
of daisies and spirea. A light breeze
blew in his face, and a couple of fair
haired girls in pink cotton made bright
patch against the gray-toned houses. By
Jove! how awfully nice it all was, after
India! A man might be very happy in
London, with a charming wife who would
know how to give little dinners, and the
theatres, and the park.
Pulling up at the house, Dicks jaw
fell. There was an awning from the
door to the curbstone, with crowd of
nurse maids and urchins gaping on each
side. The street was full of carriages,
too. What did it mean2 Then Dick
remembered that Mrs. Lennox gave a
great many afternoon parties. Well, it
was deuced disappointing, he said to
himself, when you had come all the way
from India to see woman, to find that
she is giving one of those Internal kettle
drums the very day you arrive.
Inside the house there was the usual
elbowing, well-dressed crowd that you
see any afternoon in the season of May
fair. Boys in gray coats with pink car
nations in their button-holes logged old
club lnen in brown coats and white gar
denias. In the dining room hooked
nosed dowages were foraging for ices,
while On the landing frisky matrons
loitered with their temporary swains.
On the stairs Dick met a woman he
knew, an enthusiastic girl of forty-three,
who was dressed in more juvenile garb
than when he had last seen her. Muir
muring, Charmed to see you back
happy OCCASION!
Happy occasion, was it?' said Dick
to himself, wishing his gushing acquaint-
ance and the rest of the guests at the
bottom of the sea. 1t would have been
happier occasion still if he could have
found his Dorothy alone in her amber
tinted room.
When Captain Irton reached the door,
he could see Mrs. Lennox standing in
the midst of a small crowd of people,
who all seemed to be talking at once.
By Jove! how fetching she looked in
her silver-gray gown, with huge bou.
quet of orchids, and that gray tulle
thing she had on her head! Was that
a new fashion, Dick wondered, for wo-
men to wear bonnets at their own 'al
homes?' And there was that ass Short
horn close beside her, with particular.
ly fatuous expression on his face. 1t was
high time he had come. Why, the fel'
low was far gone-over head and ears;
Dick could see that by the way he ap
propriated Mrs. Lennox with his eyes.
Then one of the circle moved away.
and Dorothy turned and saw Captain
Irton at the door. She looked as if she
had seen a ghost. Coming forward, he
took her hand, and then he saw thai
something was wrong. Without word
she motioned him to an adjoining ROOM
which for the moment was empty.
'Goodness!' she whispered, 'why have
you come now? I wired that you were
not to come, that it was too late.
wrote, too, but you could not have go
my letter.
Too late, Dorothy! what do yor
mean? Your telegram said 'Do moi
come too late. Well, started the mex
day.
Poor Dick she said at last, 'what
dreadful mistake you have made! 'Do
not come. Too late, was the message
1 sent. Did you not remember thai
there are no full-stops in telegraphy?
was married an hour ago to Lord Short
horn. Come in, and let me introduce
you to my husband
And this was Dick Irton's little mis-.
take. There are no full-stops in tele'
g.aphy, but when, ten minutes later Dick
saw Lord and Lady Shorthorn drive of
amidst showers of rice and slippers, hi
knew that he had had moral full-stoI
which he would remember all his life.
The Art Of Visiting.
Some people visit nearly all the time
so waste their friends substance; some
rarely visit at all, and SO deny themselve'
and their neighbors one of the creates
pleasures of social existence. Some
people make visits so short that they art
not worth the trouble they cost; other
stay so long that the visit becomes
visitation like fever or famine. Al
use is always essential to excellence il
any art, only those who have certain